


you make me happy when skies are grey

by despairingdignities



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-12-24 20:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12020022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/despairingdignities/pseuds/despairingdignities
Summary: A story from before Danny, before the Millers, before everything went dark - of how Beth Roper, effervescent adventurer, became Mark Latimer's "sunshine girl".





	you make me happy when skies are grey

**Author's Note:**

> So I felt bad for getting Dana hyped about new Beth/Mark fic in the tag, and them not being together in the fic itself. So I finished this scene, which I started ages ago. There's going to be more chapters when I've written more scenes. This is the first time I feel like I've managed to write genuine fluff sans angst, so please love me. <3

Mark sees her there, again, despite the rain; the short, slight form of Elizabeth Roper ( _junior_ , although she hated the distinction because it made her feel juvenile - why have a word when you can _clearly_ see the difference between her and her mother) or the ‘sunshine girl’, as he’d nicknamed her, standing just a little way back from the pitch.

There are plenty of girls there, always is - he wonders every time if just _maybe_ his friends’ comments about how ‘in-demand’ he is amongst the ladies could have some truth to them - but Beth, cliché as it is, is the one who stands out.

Her green eyes are fervent, attentive, and _yes_ , he’s been caught out watching her, because she's looked away.

Mark’s okay with that, though, because she's grinning. It’s bashful, it’s bright, and it’s all teeth. And it’s why he calls her ‘sunshine girl’ - because even when the weather’s dismal you can count on her to bring the light and warmth back into the day.

She's grinning, despite the fact she's _soaked through_ , school shirt clinging to her skin, hair plastered to her face, cheeks flushed with the burn of the cold wind. Yes, it’s just wind burn; he knew she’d blame it on that, anyway. If there was one thing Beth had inherited from her father Geoff, it was being bloody _stubborn_.

He can imagine her streaked with mud, out in the fray, letting out loud raucous laughter, indulging the soul that truly belonged outdoors - oh God,  _what is he thinking?_ He catches himself, blinks, and tries to ground himself once again. They’re barely more than acquaintances, like everyone in Broadchurch, and the elder Elizabeth Roper would _not_ be best amused if her daughter caught her death of cold.

“Nice weather, eh?” Beth comments as he crosses the field to meet her. Her voice has a warm lilt to it, and she doesn’t seem bothered by the state she's in right now. The small talk is nothing but a distraction from the embarrassing fact she's been caught staring, just like the rest of Mark Latimer’s apparent “fangirls”, and she senses he knows that.

One glance over her shoulder tells her that her friends are staring, open-mouthed. She gives them a look and they look away, but of course, the second she turns her head, they will too.

Mark agrees with her, and she's found herself zoning out, thinking. Her friends had told her she had _literally no chance_ because _everyone from this school to kingdom come_ liked Mark Latimer, and here she is holding a conversation. That thought reminds her that she risks screwing it up if she doesn’t get her head out of the _fucking stars_ quick and fast.

“C’mon, you’ll catch your death out here,” he’s saying, and he’s put a hand on her shoulder. It’s tentative, but she doesn’t shrug it off. “Can I give you a lift home?”

Beth shakes her head fervently. “No, I’ll walk, I don’t want to…”

Something rushes out of her mouth about not wanting to burden him, or some other rubbish, until in her panicked haste to find some reason to dissuade him she comes out with _the environment_ as an excuse and he laughs.

“Don’t they tell people to car share?” Mark seems to remember that, and it must be true, because Beth (for all her rambling five seconds earlier) promptly falls silent. He can see the cogs turning in her head as she tries to come up with something else to say. “See, no excuses now, eh? Just let me drop you home, Beth. It’s not like I’m asking you to dinner.”

_I wouldn’t mind you asking me to dinner_ , thinks Beth, and the tips of her ears go a little pink. This, too, is easily blamed on the cold. A few long moments later she surmises she's been beaten. She's shivering, and the walk is a fair distance, anyway. “Fine, okay, whatever.”

(Her attempt at being offhand fails _catastrophically_ and she fiddles with the hem of her soaked shirt while she waits for him to lead the way.)

A second glance over her shoulder, at her now-dumbfounded friends, Beth decides the embarrassment is worth it. She even flashes them a grin and a wink. This meeting doesn’t mean _anything_ other than a lift home, but they don’t have to know that, do they?

_**No chance? I’ll give you no chance.** _


End file.
